The Way to Game the Walk of Shame (25 page)

BOOK: The Way to Game the Walk of Shame
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Letting out a deep breath, I tried again. “So are you ever going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Her lips pursed together into a tight line, and Taylor shook her head. “It’s just … college stuff that’s stressing me out. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Not sure if she was telling me the truth, I leaned back against her side and nodded, just glad that she wasn’t mad at me anymore. And she
had
been stressing about being wait-listed for a while. Maybe someone else had gotten in or something. The people at Columbia were idiots for not accepting her in the first place. Taylor was amazing.

“Do you ever wonder if we’d be friends if it weren’t for that stupid party?” I didn’t know why that question popped out, or why the answer was important to me, but it was.

“Probably not.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eye and smiled. “You’re kind of an ass.”

“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”

“That’s okay. I’m kind of a shrew.”

“Kind of?” I threw up my hands when her eyes narrowed. “All right,
kind of
is right, I guess.”

Her lips curved in the first genuinely happy smile I’d seen from her all day, the kind that was so wide it practically covered her small face, and suddenly the world seemed brighter. Though it was probably because of the sun setting right through the window by the front entrance.

“Do you remember that night? I don’t remember much of it.”

Not much, but some bits and pieces had come back to me every once in a while. Awesome bits and pieces. “Yeah, you say a lot of weird stuff when you’re drunk.”

“I did?” Taylor groaned and her arms swung up to cover her face. “God, I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what did we—what did we talk about?”

If I were a nice guy, I would have lied and spared her the details. I wasn’t going to, though. It was too hilarious to forget. “Nothing much. You told me about your love for blue cotton candy and how you’re rotten and mean on the inside. Oh, and you told me that you have dirty thoughts all the time, and then you hit me.”

Her head slowly lifted, eyes wide with shock and horror. “What?” She sounded hoarse and strangled.

“You did. Right here.” I solemnly nodded and pointed to my right cheek. “I’m surprised you didn’t see the red mark.”

“And what about … the other stuff?”

“Oh, you mean the dirty stuff?” I smirked. “Well, it was pretty cold, so I couldn’t take off my clothes like you wanted me to, but I did let you feel me up above the waist. I drew the line at the pants, though. I’m not
that
kind of guy. You have to take me out to dinner first.”

Her hand moved so fast that I almost didn’t see it. Almost. I shielded my head with my arms, but she was still able to smack me right by my left ear. The other couple and some workers were starting to stare at us. “Ouch! I’m sorry! Next time I
will
take off the pants!”

Smack!
This time it was even harder than before. I ducked, but she was prepared. “Stop.”
Smack.
“Saying.”
Smack.
“That! It’s not funny!”

Finally I had to grab her arms to make her stop. “Settle down. We’re in a public place, you know.”

Suddenly my words sank in, and Taylor backed off. Her face was beet red, but she stared at the tank again until everyone stopped looking at us. Her shoulders still silently shook with laughter.

I don’t know how long we sat there in silence watching the fish, but when it got dark, I knew it was time to go. I didn’t want Taylor to be late for dinner and get in even more trouble because of me. I grabbed a bag from my backpack. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Without waiting for me to answer, Taylor pulled out a stuffed otter I had bought from the gift shop. She wordlessly blinked at me.

“Just something to say sorry. For your allergies.” Brian popped into my head at that exact moment. “If you ever need to talk, just call me. I could be here for you, too.”

Taylor blinked at me again as though absorbing everything I’d just said. Finally, with a little squeal, she hugged me. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” I pulled away and beamed down at her, glad that she was happy again. “That’s what friends are for, right?” Within a few seconds, her delighted smile faded as she hugged the toy to her chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she went back to watching the sea turtles. Her cheek pressed against the top of the otter, cushioning her frown. It’s strange how a single word could sound so heavy and be, well,
not
nothing at all.

God, girls were confusing.

 

23

{Taylor}

“Leos were known for their bravery in desperate times.”

Ha! This proved that horoscopes were a bunch of crap. I wasn’t brave. I was a coward. A cowardly lion. Bring on the Wizard of Oz.

Hiding wouldn’t solve anything. I knew that. Heck, it probably made things worse, but I couldn’t go to school. Not when Brian’s kiss was still fresh in my brain. And Evan’s aquarium date.

Since Evan and I weren’t dating, I wasn’t
necessarily
a cheater. But I still felt guilty. And it did violate the contract. Never in a million years would I have imagined that I’d be the one to break that clause. Thank god I didn’t add a penalty fine like I had planned.

Mom came into the kitchen just as I fished a fat pickle out of the jar. With pursed lips, she watched me chop it into even, microscopic pieces. She finally spoke up when I reached for another one. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah, I just had a headache this morning, but I’m okay now.”

“Good, now you can tell me what’s wrong.”

I wiped my juice-covered hands on a white dishtowel, staining it light green. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you skipped school today, and now instead of studying or working on something, you’re chopping up enough stuff to feed an army.” She crossed her arms on the countertop across from me and leaned forward. “What’s bothering you?”

Jeez, what was with the third degree? I let out a sigh and scooped the pickles into the mixing bowl. “Can’t a girl make some tuna in peace?”

“A normal girl, yes. You? No.” Mom cocked her head to the left and smiled. “After you got your wait-list letter, we had enough tuna to feed an army of neighborhood cats for months. Then there was the time after your physics exam that you swore you failed. And before that—”

“All right, I get the point.” I hadn’t realized that I always made tuna when I was stressed, but I guess I did. We had one of those swift-chopping blenders that cut everything up for us, but I liked chopping out the ingredients. There was something calming about meticulously cutting everything myself. It took more time, but I always felt better afterward.

Just then Dad walked into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks at the sight of us. “What’s with the nightly meeting?”

“Taylor’s making tuna.”

His eyes widened. “Oh. Umm, I’m going back into the living room, then. Let me know when it’s safe to come back for my ice cream.”

I watched him rush out of the kitchen and turned to Mom, who was trying to hide her grin. “Does everybody know about this tuna thing?”

“Basically.” She picked up one of the hard-boiled eggs and knocked it against the countertop. “So what’s wrong?”

My eyes shifted down to my cutting board, suddenly embarrassed to be confiding in Mom. “I’m having some trouble with … guys.”

She let out a little squeal and clasped her hands together. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that. For us to finally have a mother-daughter talk. Is it Evan? What did he do? Is he pressuring you about sex?”

“Oh god. No, Mom!” I smacked my hand against my forehead. Maybe asking her was a mistake. I should have finished my tuna in peace. “Just forget about it.”

“Nooo!” She grabbed my arm and tugged on it like Kimmy did whenever she wanted me to buy her candy from the store. “I’m sorry, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s just…” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I tried to figure out how to ask her opinion without revealing too much. “Why do you like Evan so much?”

“What do you mean? He’s sweet. Fun. And you have to admit, he’s pretty easy on the eyes.”

My brow wrinkled. “Yeah, but … we don’t have anything in common. At all. I’m just surprised that you’re so supportive of us dating, that’s all.”

“I suppose he is one of those boys I should be warning you about. Or hiring a chaperone to follow you two everywhere.” Mom pursed her lips together in thought as she continued peeling the rest of the eggs. “I guess I’m just glad that you’re finally acting like a normal teenager. Dating and having fun. I was fully prepared for all the angst and fighting that comes with a teenage daughter, but you were never like that. You got terrific grades. You’re driven, and you know exactly what you want to do with your life. And nothing gets in the way of that. You barely go out, so you don’t break your curfew. And you always help out around the house and do what you are supposed to do.”

“I’m … sorry?”

She laughed. “I’m not complaining. It’s just … you became an adult by the time you were eleven, and sometimes I wonder if that’s because of your dad. The real one. And our fighting all the time. You never got to be a kid like Kimmy.”

I traced the flower designs on the countertop. “Some people are just different.”

“Yeah.” Mom let out a sigh and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. “I just don’t want you to miss out on anything because of me.”

Guilt swept over me. Mom was always so happy and cheerful—even flaky at times. Now I felt bad for being annoyed whenever she would try to get me to go shopping or get manicures. I’d never understood why she seemed so obsessed with that sort of stuff.

“I’m making tuna because of Brian,” I finally said, throwing her a bone. “And Evan.”

Her eyes got so bright and round that I wouldn’t have been surprised if she started jumping up and down with joy. Her straighter-than-a-ruler daughter finally acting like a real teenager with boy problems and faking sick to skip school? Not to mention, two boys were vying for the hand of that uptight, driven daughter? Cue the newspapers. This was a dream come true.

Luckily, she tried to play cool about it. “So they both like you? That’s interesting. But not surprising, of course,” she quickly added.

“Well, Brian told me he does. For a while now. But Evan … I don’t think we’ll last much longer.” I chewed on my lower lip. “Especially since there’s this other girl that likes him, and they have a
history
.” Mom didn’t need to know the specifics of Lauren and Evan’s history. I definitely didn’t want to think about it.

“Oh. Well, Brian is quite nice, too.”

“He’s great. He’s perfect for me. Like Dad is for you. And it makes sense for us to be together. I always figured we’d end up together, anyway.” I shrugged. “But I don’t know why I’m hesitating now.”

She reached out and swept my bangs out of my face before tilting up my chin with her index finger. “Usually, that means you don’t actually want it. No matter how much you thought you did. For once, go with your heart and not your head. Even if it’s crazy.”

“But that’s really hard.”

“Life is hard. Give yourself some time to figure things out, then. And if someone bothers you about that, you can tell them to go to hell.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Thanks, Mom. That’s great advice.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” A wide smile crossed her face. “Do you want to go shopping after school tomorrow?”

I shuddered inside, but I nodded. “Sure, that’d be fun.”

*   *   *

Mom
did
say I needed to take some time for myself, so I took that as having parental permission to stay home the next day. Hopefully, an extra day would help me figure out things.

I didn’t count on Brian coming to visit.

“You look pretty healthy for someone who’s supposed to be on her sickbed. And to think I cut first period to come all this way to check up on you.”

My head popped up from the pillow I had propped against the wall. I was in my usual spot in the living room, curled in the armchair by the bay window with a romance novel in my hand. Evan’s otter plush was on my yellow-and-white-striped lap. “Brian! How—how did you get in?”

His thumb jabbed over his shoulder. “Your mom let me in before she left for work.”

Ah, that traitor in Vera Wang pumps and Ralph Lauren Romance perfume.

He handed me a large pink daisy. “Here. I remembered you liked daisies.”

I think I had only mentioned that once, but of course, Brian would remember. “Thanks.” I touched the soft petals for a few seconds before putting it on the tiny table next to me. Damn, this was hard.

“So are you ever coming back to school, or are you planning to hide out at home until the end of the year?” Brian leaned against the white doorframe. His ankles crossed in the opposite corner. He was so tall that his lanky frame seemed to fill up the entire doorway, making any thoughts of escape impossible. “Even though you’re smart, I doubt the school will let you graduate from home. And it’ll be a shame to be a high school dropout just because some idiot confessed his feelings for you.”

My heart wrenched at his forced-playful tone. He told me he liked me, and how did I respond? By running away and hiding until he had to come look for me himself. When had I turned into a six-year-old kid again? And most importantly, why couldn’t I be sick for real? Dante’s hell was too good for me. “I’m sorry, Brian. I just didn’t—”

“You don’t have to say it. I did kind of spring it on you. I had all these scenarios of how I would tell you, and blurting it out like that wasn’t one of them. And you holing up at home is a pretty clear indication of how you feel.” He swallowed loudly. “Right?”

I hesitated for a second and gave him a small nod. I didn’t want to hurt him, but it wasn’t right to lead him on anymore. Even if we did try to give it a shot, it would never work out. No matter how many chips were in our favor. I couldn’t make the feelings suddenly appear. Mom was right. I had to go where my heart wanted me to be. Even if it meant it could get broken. Even if Evan only considered me a friend.

BOOK: The Way to Game the Walk of Shame
6.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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